Ever Fallen In Love With Someone (you shouldn't've)
by scribblingnellie
Summary: The last place Greg Lestrade ever thought he'd run into Molly Hooper was at a punk rock gig. But there she was. And she was in his arms. For Melontastic-tercah over at Kick It Up A Notch on tumblr - a punk rock Greg! Many thanks for reading. Title from the Buzzcocks song - definitely worth a listen!


He closed his eyes. Everywhere. The music surrounded him, made his body thud and beat. His days of pogo-ing with the crowd were over - dignity, dodgy knee, age - but the feeling from the music hadn't changed. The mess, the noise - something in it made everything stop existing and it was just the music. Screeching, shouting, thudding.

The small venue was crowded. Bodies filled almost every space; Greg and his brother and their old school friends found themselves wedged between the wall and the bar. Not a bad place to be if you needed to get another round in. He was three pints into his evening; though he felt the need for something stronger. Loud punk rock, at his age, always needed a good few whiskies to go with it. Opening his eyes, he knocked back the last dregs of the pint of Spitfire, placing the glass back on the bar. Reaching out to tap his brother on the shoulder, he stopped.

It was the hair that caught his eye. And made his heart stutter. Gently tumbling down her back. Was it her? Here? A small grungy club, the screech of the third band on the bill filling all the corners and revellers bouncing up and down, crashing into each other; it was the last place he expected to see the lovely petite brunette. Seriously, was it her?

Wait up. She disappeared. Greg scanned the spot where he'd seen her - where was she? It must've been her. Forgetting it was his turn to get a round in, he squeezed past his mates, ignoring his brother's protests, vaguely aware that he was treading on his foot.

Catching a glimpse of the gorgeous long hair, he followed, pushing his way into the crowd. Between heads, over shoulders, he kept his eyes on her as she made her way down the side, in and out of the crush. Something about the way she moved through the crowd. Greg was sure it was her. Even in the dingy light of the club, he knew it.

As he pressed his way through, he lost sight of her again. Staring at where she'd been, he searched the crowd. There. With her arms around someone's neck, kissing their cheek. A young man. Oh. Of course. A gorgeous, clever woman like Molly Hooper would have a boyfriend, and a younger man than him. Why he'd thought that he could've been in with a chance was a bit farfetched...

'Greg!'

At the sound of his name he looked back. And there she was; standing in front of him, grinning. He couldn't help grinning back because she looked so happy and it _was_ the last place he expected to see her but he was rather glad he had.

'I thought it was you!' Two steps to him and she was throwing her arms around his neck.

And that took him by surprise. Nice though, as she held herself against him.

'Molly!' He leaned close to her ear, making himself heard above the noise. 'What you doin' here?'

Smiling, she didn't move away from him as she dropped her arms from his neck. Greg let his hand rest against her back; she didn't seem to mind.

'I'd asked you ..same thing.'

As she pulled his head down to shout in his ear, he could feel her breath on his cheek. And the soft touch of her fingers on his neck, her lips next to his face, her back warm through her shirt. Of all the places, a punk rock gig was honestly not where he thought he'd be holding Molly Hooper's body against his. It felt a little surreal. But mostly wonderful.

'Old punk, me.' Greg put his lips next to her ear, his nose tickling as her hair fell across her face. 'You? Didn't know you were into it.'

'No, not usually.. cousin's in the band. Promised him I come and see them.'

Ah.

'Was that him?' Greg nodded over to where he'd seen her hugging the young man. 'That bloke.'

'Yes.' And Molly looked into his eyes, tilting her head. 'You didn't think he was...'

He held his hands ups. 'I didn't think anything. Honest.' Well, he wasn't going to tell her that he had thought it. How would that look?

'You..' Molly tapped him on the chin. '..do strike me as the punk type. Though maybe a bit on the mature side..'

'Hey, watch it you.' And she ducked out of his reach as Greg swatted at her arm.

Were they flirting? She moved back next to him, her shoulder brushing against his chest. As the crowd surged to the increasing squall of guitars, Molly moved closer, inching herself away from the sweaty, gyrating bodies. Greg moved them further back, until he felt the wall behind him.

As they stood close together, letting the noise of the band surround them, he suddenly found himself very conscious of her. Her shoulder pressed warmly against him, the scent of vanilla, the light touch of her hair, loose against his cheek as her head nodded to the song. And he felt like a teenager again; at a gig with a gorgeous girl next to him, and his favourite kind of musical noise blaring out at him.

As another random, staggering reveller collided with them, Molly fell awkwardly against him. Instinctively his arms went out and around to steady her. Her back pressed against his chest, she turned her face and smiled up at him.

'Thanks.' Her voice was lost in the noise around them but he could read her lips. They stared at each other before he dropped his eyes. Greg went to take his arms away but her hand came to rest on his forearm, keeping them there. She wanted to stay right where she was? Her body curved into him. He liked it. So he kept his arms wrapped around her shoulders, resting just above her breasts.

The song ground to a halt, the noise of overworked, badly played guitars petered out. Ok, this was his chance. Leaning his head down, he brought it level with hers. 'Having fun?'

Turning her head, she smiled at him. 'I am.'

He smiled back, squeezing her in his arms. And then she quickly looked away. Again, that look. Same look she'd given him at the wedding. Did Greg take a chance on what he thought it meant? Seriously, he liked Molly, a lot. Yes, he'd avoided dancing with her at the wedding, and since her and Tom had split up. But now, now he didn't want to avoid her; she looked at him like she wanted to be there, in his arms.

As he pondered, Greg felt Molly turn towards him, her shoulder moving across his chest until she was facing him. And then he felt her arms go around his waist, her eyes never leaving his.

'Molly?'

His heart stopped as she moved against him, her lips reaching up to gently brush his cheek. Ok, that he didn't expect. But then pretty much everything that'd happened since he'd spotted her in the crowd he hadn't expected.

Sliding his hands down her back, he nestled them around her waist. And they stood there, Greg's back against the wall, Molly arms around his waist. Caught, like both of them suddenly realised that this was happening. And knowing what was going to happen next. Could he? He had thought about kissing her, and what it would be like. When they'd sat so close at the wedding, when he'd let his arm rest on the back of her chair. Then she'd danced with Tom and he mentally slapped himself for ever thinking about her like that. But now.

What the hell.

With only a slight hesitation, Greg brought his lips down to hers. A brief kiss, a touch and he pulled back. The look in her eyes, and the pressure of her hands on his back, pushing him towards her, he didn't hesitate again as she sought his lips.

And he lost himself in the moment. Kissing her firmly, his arms wrapped themselves tighter around her waist, bringing her as close as he could; Molly responded, grabbing at his lips. Somewhere behind them, the next band started up. Between the loud, brilliant angry music and the feel of Molly's lips on his, their bodies pressed together, Greg was pretty sure this was the start of something rather bloody good.

* * *

**For **_**melontastic-tercah **_**over at **_**Kick It Up A Notch **_**on tumblr, in response to her plea for a punk rock Greg snogging Molly at a gig. I couldn't resist! I've set it after John and Mary's wedding, so not AU - inspired by an evening train home about 5 years ago when a whole load of older punk rockers (brilliant bunch!) got on at Brixton station, and which I later found out was because of a Sex Pistols gig at Brixton Academy. I've pinned a few of my fave punk tunes over on my pinterest board. Do pop by for a listen while you read if you fancy. Many thanks for reading.**


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